Read Deep End: A Bad Boy Sports Romance for Free Online Page A

d up and put back into her bag, sh e turns on her heel to leave. But she gives me one last mean look, opening her mouth to throw another insult at me.
    Her face softens. A look of actual concern runs across her face.
    “Shit,” she says. “You’re actually hurt, aren’t you?”
    “I was just trying to help with your bag,” I say, as a way of apologizing .
    She bends down. I can’t help but take another quick look at her breasts, as she leans over me. “Where does it hurt?” Her voice is soft, amazingly soft and sexy.
    “My back,” I say. “I don’t think it’s too bad. I’ll be fine.”
    “Can you move?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Let me help you.” She puts her bag down, and grabs me under my armpits and pulls me up. Shit, she is really strong. But this fact makes me more worried than impressed. She’s acting swee t now, but she seems like the type who’s not going to put up with my shit.
    “I think I’m OK,” I say, standing up now, reaching around and feeling my back.
    She’s still holding me though, her body pressed tightly against mine. It feels wonderful. My chest is naked, and pressed right into her breasts.
    “I’m gla d you’re OK,” she says. “Don’t worry about the books. Not many people realize just how heavy this bag is, and to what lengths I’m willing to go to protect my precious books.”
    “Yeah, I can see that…”
    “What the hell?” she says, interrupting me in a loud voice. “You’re getting an erection?”
    She pulls away from me in disgust.
    I look down, and sure enough, I have a massive erection pointing straight up, obviously visible in my skin-tight swim briefs .
    “ You’re an animal,” she says, fury coming over her face again. She looks down at herself. “And you’ve gotten me all wet. Disgusting jock sweat, mixed with chlorine.”
    “It’s just pool water,” I say. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re just so sexy, I can’t help it.”
    I give her a look to gauge her response. She’s still standing there. That’s a good sign.
    “Look,” I say. “Maybe you don’t like me at all, but that’s OK. I know you want to do this story on the swim team , and coach wants me to show you the ropes. He wants me to give you a personal tour, essentially. I’ll help you with all the terms. I may not know as much as you,” gesturing to her bag of books, “but I do know a lot about swimming that you probably don’t. If you’re going to write this article, then you’re going to need me.”
    “Fine,” she says, curtly, turning and beginning to walk away .
    Fine? That’s it?
    “Come to the pool tonight at 5 pm, before the evening practice. I can give you some things to look for during practice.” I call this out to her, as she’s already ten feet away from me.
    She raises her hand above her head, giving me a noncommittal gesture that I can’t quite read. But I’m pretty sure she’s going to come. After all, how can she resist the famous Anchor?

6
Allison
     
    What a jerk! What a creep. How c an he live with himself ? Does he really think that woman like that sort of thing? Does think I didn’t notice him taking sneaks at my breasts?
    I pull up my shirt a little bit, getting self-conscious just thinking about my breasts.
    Finally, I get to my dorm room, and flop myself down on my bed.
    But I’m still wet.
    Cursing Anchor (what a ridiculous name!) , I make myself get up again and change my shirt.
    I look at myself in the mirror, analyzing my body. I pull in my stomach and stick out my breasts a little, trying to see if I can change my profile.
    I’ve never been ha ppy with the way I look. I certainly don’t look like the other campus girls that flock to Anchor and the rest of the swim team.
    There’s something going on inside me, though, something that I don’t want to admit to myself.
    It’s that same feeling that I felt up in the pool balcony, when I saw Anchor.
    I can almost feel his naked chest still pressed against me. I have to admit,